19 Years
by furnaceofstars
Summary: George Weasley, a lost man after the death of his brother but is there someone who could finally bring him back to his self. Or is this girl just going to confuse things? The 19 years George goes through after the Battle of Hogwarts. George/OC George/Angelina


_Hello! Thank you for taking the time and reading this little piece, if it goes down well, please let me know cause that's always nice to know and also a good motivator! _

_This chapter's a little boring I guess, but it's just warming up really, a lot more to come! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, well apart from the girl..._

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It has been roughly 2 months since the funeral. He'd have hated the funeral. It was morbid, depressing, dark, cold…all the things he wasn't. He was warm, fun, free, happy and there. I still turn to look for him in our room. Pathetic but true.

There were other funerals too. Too many, but Fred's was the worst.

It was at the house, a stupid idea if any would have asked me, but no one did. I guess it was good for mum, it kept her busy, kept her bossy. The day before, she'd written a list of all the things that needed to be done before the funeral, against each job was a name. I had the least and she seemed to have the most.

I had to:

- Bring the washing in

- Fold the washing

- Get rid of the gnomes

- Put washing in the right room

That was it. I was done by lunch and so I just sat with dad in his shed while he pretended to be sorting it out. All the while mum was cooking cleaning _and_ making sure that everyone was doing their jobs right. That night she fell asleep in the arm chair by the fire.

The day of the funeral was just sickening, I hid away in our room until Ron came to get me and dragged me downstairs to face all the people who wouldn't look at me. Only a few people actually had a real conversation with me, Angelina being the first.

"Hey Georgie." Came her quiet voice from behind me. I turned to find her in a bright yellow dress and a small smile to accompany those sad brown eyes.

I feel the smile pull at my lips a little as I say "Hey" in greeting. "You look lovely." I comment.

Angelina grinned at me then, "Oh George, now I couldn't tell whether that was you being sarcastic or serious."

"A bit of both perhaps." I say laughing with her.

It has to be said, Angelina really did brighten up the room, not just because of the dress, she being…normal. Well as normal as you can be at funeral, but she was there, trying to joke with me and it made me feel a whole lot better.

After Angelina came Jordan who's tie sparkled and glittered blindingly if you stared at it. Then came Luna and the strangest conversation I've had. I'm not really sure that she knew why she was there but came over and spoke about the "rare breed of gnome" that she'd just spotted scampering through the garden with a plate of sandwiches held above his head. Luna definitely cheered me up with that tale. But then came the service and the speeches, the lowering of the coffin in the home made hole, dug by Ron and Dad. Then everyone had to eat the food that they really weren't hungry for and the sympathetic conversations that no one really wanted to say.

All in all, Fred would have hated it.

He'd have loved that night though. Once the last of the guests had left we, Me, Ron, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Ginny, Hermione and Harry made Mum and Dad sit down and leave the cleaning for tomorrow. Fleur and Ginny made three pots of tea and Percy took the orders for everyone while Me and Charlie passed them out, before settling down in the odd sofas and chairs to drink up and just relax. There we began to just remember all these stories, family stories with Fred in. It was cleansing. And it also felt nice not to have anyone cry about it. I think it's the first time no one had cried.

But like I said, two months have passed since then, and I don't feel like I have recovered. Not in the slightest. It still hurts. While the world is recovering and celebrating I'm still far behind everyone else, not coping. I decided to move back to our flat a few weeks ago and in some ways I think it was a good idea, getting back to reality as quickly as possible, but I haven't done anything else as of yet. Both Dad and Charlie have been over separately to see if I need a hand sorting out Fred's stuff, both times I answered no. But Fred's stuff is still all there. Laid out how we left it on the day we left for home. His toothbrush is still in the cup, his laundry still in the basket. I just don't feel like I can touch it. That if I do, I'll break down.

Angelina has come over a few times too and offered to help, each time I have said no. She doesn't mind though, she just takes me out for the day. We've been all over, quiditch games, the beach, her new flat in Edinburgh with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. She's been brilliant, really caring but nothing has really come back to me yet. I'm still stuck, in nowhere.

Lately I've been heading out of Diagon Alley and all its knowing faces, through the Leaky Cauldron and out into the muggle world, London. It's a gorgeous city, full and bustling with people who have no idea who I am. I just wander, wander through streets, parks, wherever I want to go. I even changed some money into muggle money so I can buy tea when I'm out. It's brilliant! For some reason being lost in the crowd makes me feel alive, like I'm finally part of something.

So here I am once again, the sun going down, finishing off this pizza when this girl comes storming through the restaurant and up to the counter where she demands her pay packet, in a loud annoyed voice. The large man behind the bar glares at her before his scowl wavers and he begins to laugh as he walks off. She lightly giggled into her palm and leant back against the bar as she waited, carefully looking over each table before her eyes landed on my watching ones. She grins at me quick as a flash and I smile back, genuinely. A genuine smile that has that warming effect of happiness. I didn't really know it, but she'd bring me out of this mess, she was the one who'd save me. A muggle.


End file.
